


Perception

by Rehabilitated_Sith



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Family Bonding, Finding my place, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Once a robin, batfam, itch under my skin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-05-15 10:19:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19293733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehabilitated_Sith/pseuds/Rehabilitated_Sith
Summary: Of all of his family, it is Tim that Dick fears the most.Ch 3: Tim wakes up and wishes he hadn’t.





	1. 1

Chapter 1

_Of all the reactions to Scarecrow’s fear toxin, none is more disturbing that that of Red Robin’s. I can handle the terror of Red Hood’s screams, the whimpers of Robin’s as he tries to bargain with his Mother. I can handle the ridgeness of Batman’s. Those are normal responses, and while they are still terrible, what I fear the most is the sheer silence of Red Robin. He doesn’t scream, whimper, or gasp. He doesn’t do anything, he is just immobile. His eyes, if you could see through his mask, are blown wide. He doesn’t so much as twitch._

The call for assistance came from Red Robin early into the night; we were all separated as we tried to deal with the most recent mass breakout from Arkham. According to Oracle, I am the closest. Despite the wind whipping through my hair, I don’t have the presence of mind to enjoy the sheer freedom that comes from slinging through the city. My mind is solely focused on my destination as Oracle’s reports flow through the communications system. I can hear the others responding, some with the sounds of exertions, others with a tinge of thrill from adrenaline.

What I notice most of all is the silence from Red Robin after his call. He doesn’t answer the questions directed his way. The open comm that allows the sounds of taunts to filter to the rest of the Bat Clan. I don’t acknowledge the reports from Red Hood, Robin or Batman as they all check in. The reports of the different targets being taken back into custody. I focus on the muted silence. The low murmur of a voice I know. Scarecrow. He has Red Robin and Red isn’t responding. I feel the tightening in my chest, I push it down. I don’t have time to deal with the rising anxiety. Tim doesn’t have time.

I hit the top of another roof, and with a few quick strides I am already on the other side, my grapple already providing the leverage I need. As I near my destination the sounds are what greet me first. The screaming. The sheer cacophony nearly throws off my landing, but with the grace and muscle memory, I tuck into a roll and stop behind cover. I take a moment to track the screaming masses as they might their fears in real time. Some are fighting against others, some are fighting themselves and some are curled into little balls, rocking back and forth nonsensically. Then the sky decided that it hated me. The clouds opened with a ferocity I haven’t seen in awhile. While I cursed my luck, I also acknowledged that it was a boon. The rain would keep the gas from spreading. It would contain it. It would neutralize its airborne nature.

I can’t see Red or Scarecrow. I can feel the frustration rising within, but I tap down on it. I would like nothing better than to focus on Red and find him amongst the hordes, but I have to trust he can handle himself a little while longer while I get the civilians to relative safety. I know I don’t have enough antidote for them and even if I did, we must first confirm the particular strain of fear toxin.

With not a little regret, I start to coral the civilians. I first go after those violet against others. My hands flash to pressure points, knocking out as many as I could get my hands on. When I have a decent amount, I round them up and chain tie them together, so if one starts to struggle it applies pressure to the others, preventing them from moving.

I had a second group secured when the heavy thuds of boots landing near me alerts me to Red Hood’s arrival. Securing the last knot, I barely acknowledge him as I give directions. I leave the rounding up to him, my mind already flashing to Red Robin and his prologues silence.

“Sit rep,” Batman barks into the commas.

“Scarecrow is still on the loose. No response from Red Robin. Red Hood is currently securing the civilians. I am tracking RR,” I answer back succinctly.

“Break,” Oracle interjects. “I have eyes on Red Robin, he is northwest of your position. He hasn’t moved in half an hour.”

“Acknowledged. Nightwing, get him.”

“On it,” I respond to Batman’s order.

I angle my path towards Oracle’s last reported position of Red Robin, my steps are quick and sure. As I round the corner, I curse my luck. Skidding to a stop, I peer through the curtain of rain, desperate for any flash of red against the rest of the muted colors. I switched my lenses to thermal and found several spots of interest, most were still moving regardless of the discomfort of the rain but my focus was on the two still figures. For the second time in a short while I was glad for the cover of rain, I ignored the afflicted civilians and made a zigzag path towards the two.

“Incoming.”

I paused behind a low wall, waiting for Robin to touch down next to me. Light were his steps, his stealth is aided by the water. I touch his knee to direct his attention to me before I flash several hand signals, knowing that even in this close proximity the roar of the rain made conversation difficult and using the comms so close would cause a feedback reaction that we both would like to avoid. A nod of understanding passes between us, and with that Robin slinks away.

Glancing, I notice the one small heat source taking out the civilians, preventing them from being caught in the next fight. When the all clear was given, I make my move. I come in from the side, my focus on the two figures but I still make sure that there are no surprises from my peripheral. The rain starts to slow. With my vision clearing I return my lenses to normal and allow a low growl exit before I stifle it.

In front of me is my little brother, his muscles frozen with a barely a tremble belying his current emotional state and looming over him from behind is the tall, thin figure of the Scarecrow. My fists clench, wanting nothing more than to tear the monster limb from limb. While Scarecrow is not touching Red Robin, I know he can be doing just as much damage. With his head almost intimately close over Red Robin’s shoulder, I surmise that he is talking to my brother and I want him to stop. Before this night was through I would make sure that the Scarecrow can’t whisper any more poisonous words, one way or another.

The rain abruptly ceases to a soft mist, the sudden silence is my downfall. My foot causes a rock to skitter slight but it is enough. Scarecrow’s attention swivel’s to me. We lock eyes and a slow smile marred his already hideous vestige. A blade flashes in the moonlight and blood flows from a wound, mixing with the puddles on the ground.

“NO!”

 

———  
5/29/19 Rehabilitated Sith.

I do not have a current schedule for this fic, so if you’d like to keep up on updates feel free to follow this story. Also any constructive remarks are always appreciated! Until next time. Ciao.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red Robin’s meets scarecrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping to stay one chapter ahead but I didn’t want to wait. :-p. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 2

 

Red Robin paused on the next roof top. Landing with ease, he observed his surroundings long enough to be satisfied that he had no followers. A few taps to his lenses, and a map glowed in his vision; on it were several dots, most of which were on the move. Another tap brought a new layer up, this one with blinking icons; these were their targets. Once he verified his target, he used his gloves to shift the data around until he was certain he knew the locations of each of the BatFamily. A flick of his wrist the vitals of those he was monitoring popped up, each registering normal levels.

 

Breathing out a slow breath, he took another precious moment to reorient himself. The motion caused a twinge, reminding him of the wound he still hadn’t taken care of. Rolling his shoulders, he noted that the pain did not impede his range of motion; therefore, was not a cause for concern at the moment. He needed all his focus to be on his target: Scarecrow. ‘All I really should need to do, is locate the source of the screaming. It’s not really that hard.’

 

His hand balled into a fist at his own self-recriminations, knowing that if he hadn’t lost his focus the civilians wouldn’t currently in be in danger. ‘I had one job and I couldn’t even do that. It was scarecrow,not even a heavy hitter, I should have been able to take him down easy.’

 

“All points report in,” Batman ordered.

 

Red Robin listened as each of his counterparts did as directed; he also noted that Red Hood did so sarcastically and with more than a little resentment. Dutifully, Red Robin fell in line once there was a break. His report was almost instantly overridden when Oracle broken into the feed, alerting concerned parties of their targets sudden departure and subsequent new path. Red Robin checked his pouches, making sure his different instruments were as catalogued and ready for use. Mentally going through the next several steps that would enable him to take down Scarecrow, then move to help secure the more challenging targets with the others.

 

Grappling from one rooftop to the next, Red Robin only had half his attention on the steady comm feed while he prepared to land near his target. Tucking into a roll, he came to a stop behind a low wall. The sounds of fighting were close. Cautiously Red Robin made his way from cover, his steps light yet sure. His hand reached into his belt where he pulled out a rebreather, then he stilled. In front of him, not more than ten feet was a small child who appeared to be only a little smaller and possibly younger than Robin by a year. Moving swiftly, he knelt in front of the boy, his eyes already searching for signs of injuries and infection. Finding nothing, he breathed a sig of relief.

 

“Are you here alone? Where are your parents?”

 

The child’s face crumpled, tearsfilling his eyes before spilling over. Tremors rack his body as he sniffles.

 

“I dunno, they were here then the bad man came and then they were gone.”

 

“Ok buddy, I am going to go and try to find them, but in the meantime I need to hide and not come out until I or one of my family come for you, OK? And I need to use this.” Red Robin gestured to the device in his hand. The boy looked at it suspiciously.

 

“This is a magic mask, I need you to wear this until we tell you to take it off. OK? This is very important, can you do that for me?”

 

It took a moment, but eventually the boy nodded and took it from Red Robin who took a moment to show him how it fit into his mouth before he herded him off to the side and away from the sounds of fighting. 

 

“Remember, stay here, OK? Promise.”

 

“I promise.”

 

“Good boy. We’ll come for you OK? I’ll come for you.”

 

With wide eyes, the boy sunk deeper into the hiding place and Red Robin set off for his target cursing the lost time. He fitted his spare rebreather in his mouth before he set off. He only traveled another block before he stopped. He found the scarecrow at the city’s water plant.

 

He hissed in as he took in the barrels of chemicals surrounding the pipes that feed into the city’s water supply. This is bad. I need to shut off the water, stop the chemicals and get the scarecrow and his cronies...

 

“This is Red Robin to all points, I need backup immediately. City’s water plant.”

 

Quietly he’s liked behind the pumps, his steps sure as he made his water to the emergency shut off valve. With several deft moves, he cuts the supply, and locks it into the off position before he moved back towards the Scarecrow. He can hear the escalating voices as they realized that the water is no longer flowing. He retrieved his staff, a flick of his wrist caused it to extend silently. Creeping along the outside of the group, he quickly and efficiently took out the nearest guards while catching their bodies to prevent the others to being alerted to his presence prematurely. 

 

A quick hit to the back of the head of the fifth of Crow’s crew was where it all started to go wrong. The man turned just as Red Robin made his move. The hit wasn’t as clean as the others which allowed the man to cry out, alerting the others. Even as the man was going down the rest were already springing towards Red Robin’s, fights, bats and guns at the ready. Red ducked, and weaved his bo whistling through the air connecting with light thuds. Sweat trickled down the sides of Red Robin’s face, he spun away from the bat, ducking as he went. He could feel the slight burn as a bullet grazed the side of his ribs. He hissed in response resisting the urge to free on hand to cover the wound. The rebreather fell from his loosened lips. The next instance he was in the air, his legs flashing out into the splits, knocking two down. As he came down, he twirled the bo into a downward slice knocking a third to the ground with a clatter as the bat fell from his now limp hands.

 

Red Robin jerked as he felt the sharp sting as a hand grasped him by the back of his neck, fingers digging into his collar. The bo fell from his fingers, clanging as it hit the ground and rolled away from him.

 

“Looks like I caught a Robin in my net,” a voice hissed in his ear. 

 

Red Robin scrambled for a hold but all he received for his efforts was a harsh shake which sent needle like pain down his spine. He felt his chest tightening in response. His eyes widened as he struggled to catch his breath. The hand tightened, cutting off his air supply. The ground tilt beneath his feet, the air seemingly shimmering like on a hot day. The moonlight glinted hypnotically off of the bo at his feet and he couldn’t make sense of his surroundings. 

 

‘N-no—-‘

 

Then before the darkness completely overwhelmed him, the hand released his neck and his vision started to clear. His feet tried to give way but he locked his knees in desperate protest. The scarecrow was right there, he could apprehend him before anyone else got hurt.

 

“What is that fool doing? Is he that incompetent that he can’t even handle the Scarecrow?”

 

Red Robin jerked slightly as his ears seemed to focus first, registering the abrasive voice of Batman’s blood son.

 

“Give him some credit, he’s not that pathetic,” Red Hood barked back. 

 

A soft flinch that time.

 

“Red Robin do not engage until Robin get’s there. He can handle him.”

 

There was no reaction to Batman’s order.

 

“Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Bat...? The Big Bad Bat...The Big Bad Bat...Tralalalala.”

 

The next sensation to return to Red Robin was the feeling of an arm wrapping around his shoulder, he moved instinctively. He used his opposite hand to trap the arm in place before he used his momentum to flip him over his shoulder. Immediately the pressure was off of his body and he breathed heavily, his hand releasing his hold. He shook his head in a futile effort to clear his vision but it didn’t help. The light from the moon seemed to disappear or maybe that was just his vision. 

 

The soft tapping of rain answered his silent question, which quickly transformed to the feeling of being pelted as the water seemed to just cascade from the sky. The deluge caused his bangs to become plastered to his forehead, straining his locks so that they hung over his eyes further obscuring his vision. 

 

In his ear he could fainting hear the reports as Robin handed his target off to the GCPD, and Oracle acknowledge his success with praise. Red Hood was the next one to report his capture, his voice arrogant with glee. 

 

“What’s that moron doing now?”

 

“He hasn’t moved.”

 

Robin scoffed into the comms and they all heard him. Red’s face burned, he tried to get his fatigued laden limbs to move but they seemed to be rebelling. He could feel the disruption of the air as the Scarecrow got back o his feet and began circling him. ‘Move. Come on move you useless lump!’ Mentally he shouted at himself but it made no difference. He felt the defeat keenly. His failure. The sound of water running told him that the citizens were being poisoned as he stood there, they had gotten the pipes turned back on while he stood there and did nothing but what could he do? It was useless, the water as already tainted and it was only a matter of time before they all became insane.

 

He felt a presence behind him and he knew it to bet he scarecrow. A movement caught his eye and he saw that Nightwing was surging towards him, his eyes narrowed in anger. He didn’t want to see the disappointment those eyes carried. He didn’t want to face his older brother. He almost missed it but his body moved in response; one moment he was stock still the next he felt the faintest brush of fabric and his hand shot out. He felt the pain explode in his hand as something sharp attempted to pierce his side. His hands were caught in the middle, stopping the blade from entering any deeper that it already was.

 

“Noooo!”

 

Red Robin’s body jerked as something collided with him, he felt his feet leave the ground and he was airborne. For a moment he enjoyed the sensation. The next he cursed it as he splashed into the open water tank. During their fight he had gotten too close to the side and in his carelessness the water welcomed him with open arms. He saw the water as it closed over him, felt the sting of his wounds as the chemicals in the water attacked any him, hear the strange rushing sound as he drifted deeper into the tank, tasted the bitter taste of concentrated iron.

 

The darkness took his breath away.

 

 

——-

Rehabilitated Sith 6/14/19

 

Thank you so much to all those following the story, with alerts, favs and of course reviews; each one encourages me to continue and update. 

 

I posted a story which will be a series of shorts that I wanted to explore and release my brain from their tight hold so I can sleep again.


	3. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim wakes. 
> 
> Warning: major feels.

 

Chapter 3:

 

Red Robin didn’t particularly like the feeling of returning to consciousness, not one bit. He felt his lungs struggle to take in a breath, something that was simple to do and that everyone did on a daily basis, unconsciously. For Red Robin, it felt as though some was sticking a red hot poker into his lungs with every attempt. His next feeling was not so much of a tangible feeling as the realization of something looming over him. Had he been able to move, he would have rolled away from the threat immediately but his limbs refused to do their duty and obey him. Instead they did what everything else did and ignored him. His lungs reminded him that he was in fact alive as they forced air out of them in the form of violent coughing.

 

“—-I don’t see why we have to save him—-“

 

“Should have let the little fu——-die”

 

“I agree with Hood, it was a waste of our time to save him——-“

 

“Waste of air—-“

 

“I know we don’t kill Batman but in this case—-let him —-suffer—die——“

 

“—-agree——“

 

“Shh—-awake—-“

 

“Red Robin,—-me—-? Red——“

 

“Ugh, leave him—-“

 

Red Robin tried to answer but his whole body felt as if he were being weighed down. His head and ears in particular felt as though it were stuffed with cotton. Half of the words were incomprehensible and the half that were he wished he hadn’t heard. His ears burned with the harsh tones. If he could, he could curl in on himself but he couldn’t; instead his body sought to betray him in another way. He could feel the tremors racing through his body, causing him to jerk pathetically on the ground where they could all watch him in disgust. He was glad in that moment that he didn’t even have the strength to open his eyes, he couldn’t stand to see the disgust and disappointment that was sure to be fixed on the faces of his adopted family. A heavy weight settled on his chest and he struggled to swallow back the rising emotions that threatened to escape his once tight control. He felt his control slipping precariously away. He felt a single hot tear claim mutiny against him, as it burned past the corner of his eye and escaped to freedom.

 

Red Robin was glad that he felt his body slipping away, he only distinct felt the ground disappear beneath him as something came to be secured under knees and around his back. He felt a swaying that lulled him back into darkness and he hoped he would be able to stay there, in sweet oblivion’s embrace. I’m sorry.

 

-*-*-*-**-*-*-**-*-

 

“Why must I be on babysitting duty?!”

 

“Damian——“

 

“No Richard—-I—-he—-no—like—-“

 

“That’s——true—“

 

“Lying really is beneath you—-“

 

“Nugggh—-“

 

There was a pregnant pause as both voices seemed to be waiting for something. Timothy Jackson Drake struggled back to awareness. He fought against it, hoping to sink back into the comforting darkness that was sleep but his fighting was in vain, even his body was rejecting him. With a groan of protest, his eyes slit open. Fire burned his eyes, and he whimpered.

 

“Tt, pathetic—-“

 

“Dim the lights—-“

 

Tim again allowed his eyes to drift open, this time without the burning sensation. A shiver snaked its way down his spine, from the top to his toes and he couldn’t prevent it. He felt the soft caress as a blanket was drawn over his form, pulled up to his neck and left to rest there as an empty hug. Willing his neck to turn, he squinted against the lights and was only just able to make out the fuzzy shapes within his line of vision. 

 

“There he is. How do you feel?”

 

Tim flinched.The voice harsh sounding to his ears. He tried to swallow but it seemed to stick in his throat. In the next instance, the lip of a cup bumped gently against his lips seeking entry. He obeyed as he always does, and is rewarded with cool liquid. The liquid slid unrestrained down his throat, cool at first, refreshing.  Too much, too much! Drowning!

 

“If your goal is to finish what Crane started, you will succeed. A straw would be more in his ability.”

 

The snark of Bruce’s only real child grates against Tim’s ears as he chokes on the water that was once soothing, now overwhelming. The cup is hastily removed and returned with a straw. He wished he could refute it, but even he knew that he wasn’t in the capacity to handle the cup himself. He only allowed himself another small sip before he tried to relax back on the cot, exhausted from his small movements. It was then that he noted his cot had a mound of pillows, used to prop him up to a near siting position, probably in hopes that the fluid doesn’t collect in his lungs and lead to pneumonia or acute respiratory distress syndrome. 

 

That thought brought his eyes to his limbs of which his legs were completely covered so he couldn’t examine his toes but his one arm was left uncovered. Angling his head, he was able to see his hand and with that his fingernails; as he suspected they were tinged with blue, a sign of poor oxygen. Weakly, he commanded his uncovered hand to move. It obeyed in small movements until it crawled up to his chest and up to his face where to found the nasal cannula. 

 

“Wh-what’s my oxygen intake?”

 

Dick grimaced, “It’s not that bad. You’ve improved significantly since your dip in the tank. We just need to watch for secondary complications.”

 

Tim tried to pay attention, he really did, but he was distracted when his eyes caught sight of Damian moving int he background. He watched warily has Bruce joined him at the bottom of the stairs. He watched as Damian gestured to where he was, he movements sharp and emphatic. He watched the back of Bruce as he used small movements to emphasize his own point. He watched as Damian’s posture seemed to relax just the slightest when Bruce’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. He watched as Bruce left, without ever having glanced in his direction. He watched as Damian seemed to notice his gaze, his chin rising ever so slightly, a smirk on his lips.

 

Tim averted his gaze. Suddenly, he just felt tired. He didn’t notice when Dick fell silent, his gaze resting on the younger boy in the bed. Tim didn’t notice anything else, as his mind replayed Bruce interactions with his son, and the abandonment of the cave. He closed his eyes, as if in hope that the physical closing of his eyes would also help to turn his mind off as well. It didn’t. Instead his mind drifted back to sometime in his early childhood, a time when he had parents. Parents he had desperately wanted to please. Had wanted him. Was there ever such a time? Was he wanted, ever? 

 

 

-*-*-*-**-*-*-**-*-

 

He felt safe. He felt warm. He felt a soft touch whisper across his forehead. His eyes drifted lazily open, and he saw a blur partially over him. He turned his head and there with the morning light behind her, filtering through the window was his mother. She had a smile on her lips, her eyes were soft, smiling somehow. She raised her hand again, and brushed at the bangs falling into his eyes. He knew his own eyes were wide with wonder. How long had he wanted his mother by his side, her eyes looking at him with such love. He glanced around and recognized his bedroom, he knew the camera that sat on the shelf, the computer where he did his editing. He was back home.

 

“Wakey wake, sleepy head. You sleep any longer and you will waste away the day! Come on, your Father has brunch ready for us. We waited for you.”

 

He felt her fingers ruffle his hair before her weight lifted from the side of the bed, and he missed her warmth already. With new energy, he threw off his duvet and scrambled out of bed to follow her downstairs. He felt the wood beneath his bare feet, he heard the thuds of his feet as hurried downstairs to the dining area where he found his parents seated at the table, waiting for him. He saw the food out on the table, all his favorites. He felt the prickle in his eyes but blinked the tears back. He felt his chest heaving for his dash to meet them. Light filtered in through large bay windows, casting a soft glow about the whole room. 

 

“Have a seat, sport. “

 

“Dad…” He couldn’t get anything else to come out after that, emotion choking his voice.

 

His mother patted the seat net to her, and he obeyed. He nearly tipped his chair over in his eagerness to reach them. 

 

“Slow down there, we have plenty of time and food. No need to rush.”

 

“Y-you don’t have a dig planned?”

 

“A dig? No, are spending the Summer here; we don’t want to miss your birthday! It’s not everyday that our son becomes an adult!”

 

Warmth blossom’s in his chest and he doesn’t think it has anything to do with sun shining. He feels the heat rise, until it kisses across his cheeks and hits the tips of his ears. 

 

“Don’t just sit there, the food is getting cold! Dig in.”

 

Tim enjoyed his time at the table, he enjoyed watching his parents converse with eases as they kept their hands clasped together on the table. He watched as his father’s thumb kept a rhythmic motion across his mother’s knuckles. He watched as his mother fed his father a strawberry. A smile tugged at his own lips. It had been so long since he saw this kind of display.

 

“So how was your last trip?”

 

His father beams at him, immediately launching into an animated story of their travels with his mother interjecting as it goes. His eyes bounce back and forth as each take a turn telling different aspects of their journeys. He listens with enthusiasm, a soft smile on his lips. Their voices mingle in the area as Tim is distracted by a bird song just outside the window. A flash of red in his peripheral causes him to turn but its gone before he can identify it. 

 

“If you’re done, why don’t we clean up and maybe you can show us what you have been working on? Any new pictures?”

 

Attention returned to his parents, Tim brightens at the thought of sharing his newest snaps with them. After they cleaned up, they made their way back to Tim’s room, where he booted up his computer and opened up the photos he had saved digitally. Then Tim showed them the ones he developed himself, with his analog camera. 

 

They spent a good amount of time going over photos, with his parents requesting a print or two for themselves before they talked about how schooling and his friends were. Then his parents showed him their own photos they took of their latest finds and the history behind them.

 

“Tim, we’ve been discussing this and we’d like you to join on our next trip.”

 

Tim sat there, stunned. 

 

“Y-you want me to come with you?”

 

“Of course! You will have graduated from school, so there won’t be any problems there. That is, if you want to joins us, of course.”

 

“Yes! Yes, I would like that very much.” 

 

Tim leapt up from his chair and gave his parents a hug, with one arm around each. 

 

“We do need to go into the office for a little bit, how would you like to watch them unload the finds?”

 

“Really? Let’s go!”

 

Over the next several hours, Tim watched as his parents explained each object as it was removed and where it was found in relation to the dig site. Once their work was wrapped up they went out to eat for an early dinner. Then returned home, where Tim suggested they watch a movie. Much to his parents chagrin and Tim’s amusement, he selected Indiana Jones, the original, so he could taunt his parents about how real archeologists should be. His parents responded in kind with barbs about the responsibilities they have to the cultures to preserve their history. As the movie ended, they moved back upstairs where they prepared for bed.

 

Tim’s smile on his face lasted through his nightly routines. He settled into bed and started when he heard his door open and his parents come inside. His father ruffled his hair as he bid him good night, and his mother left a kiss on his forehead. He murmured goodnight to them both.

 

“See you in the morning, sport.”

 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

 

“Night Mom, Dad. Love you.”

 

-*-*-*-**-*-*-**-*-

 

Tim knew he had a smile on his lips when he felt himself waking up. Darkness met his eyes and his smile slid from his face. He could hear the whisper of bat wings. Feel the cool air on his face and knew he was no longer home. He never had been. He was alone.

 

 

-*-*-*-**-*-*-**-*-

 

A/N: 8/8/19

Rehabilitated Sith

 

How was that for some feels?

**Author's Note:**

> This is cross posted with fanfiction.net.


End file.
